Born and raised in the western world, My golden skin mirrors those around me.
Amidst the golden and bronze, beauty like the dark night sky, I see.
My father, in my youth, cautioned me with care,
This land isn't ours, he'd declare.
I was small, aware but unprepared.
Growing up burst my sheltered bubble wide,
Encountered people I was told to fear and hide,
With porcelain skin as white as snow, they resided.
Now the stories are my own, a painful verity,
I see that the oppressed are my shared identity.
Across the globe, my people face injustice's hand,
My heart weeps crimson tears, unable to withstand.
Not just those of shared golden skin, faith, or femininity,
But every oppressed soul, we must remember.
The bloodshed stains not just history's past,
It's our present and the future's heavy cast.
Peace eludes me until all opressed souls on this earth,
Find freedom, justice, and discover their true worth.
